


i'm right back where i started

by odst



Series: all the kids in your clique were pretend [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen, RVB17 inspired, Time Loop, Time Travel, breaking time, last three characters are only mentioned, york centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 05:49:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18329873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/odst/pseuds/odst
Summary: One minute he’s absentmindedly listening to North & South argue over the ethics of the Reds & Blues time traveling, & the next, it’s like he’s been torn apart & put back together again, waking up tangled in the sheets of what was once his bed.“Are you okay, York?” Delta asks, & it hits York.They did something. Something was broken, because he is dead & so are most of his colleagues except now he’s not.





	i'm right back where i started

One minute he’s absentmindedly listening to North & South argue over the ethics of the Reds & Blues time traveling, & the next, it’s like he’s been torn apart & put back together again, waking up tangled in the sheets of what was once his bed, & a voice he hadn’t heard in _years_ is there immediately, reassuring. _York?_ Delta whispers, & York’s heart is racing.

“Delta? _Delta?”_ Rushes out of his mouth, & Delta pops up in a hologram a little bit aways, & York can dimly make out the heap of his armor beneath Delta from the green glow. He hasn’t seen his armor since he died & Washington disposed of it.

“Are you okay, York?” The AI asks, & it hits York. _They did something. Something was broken, because he is dead & so are most of his colleagues except now he’s not._

“What day is it, Delta?”

“It’s the third of May, 2553- is there something wrong, York?”

May 3rd, 2553- he’s about to go back into duty, that’s the day he runs into Texas, which means he’s about two weeks from his death. He can make the two weeks work.

York spends the next few hours trying to sort through everything- how had he suddenly been thrown six years into the past where he was _alive_ , how could this have possibly happened, & what was he supposed to do? He could disappear, avoid Texas, but what happens if he goes against what has already happened? Maybe nothing would happen, maybe it’d all be fine, but he didn’t have anything concrete to back that up, & he had a feeling Delta would be. . . less than helpful if inquired about it.

He makes up his mind to go about this day the way he had done before- he was going to go attempt to break into a small carpentry shop, & he was going to let Texas come find him.

When the time rolls around, York drags himself down to the shop, armorless, one of Delta’s hologram projectors secured to his shoulder under his shirt & a pistol tucked into his waistband, loaded. Delta goes over statistics of York getting caught & estimates of how long it’ll take, & York almost forgets that he’s done this before, getting lost in humming a song to himself as he twists & turns the lock.

“Alright, freeze!” A voice barks from behind him, & he realizes it’s time.

York’s previous words come easily, second nature, which, in a way, is exactly what they are. “Oh. . . sorry officer. I lost my keys to my shop here & I was,” without even thinking he slips the pistol from his waistband, preparing himself to turn around, “trying to figure out a way to, you know, um-”

“You never were a very good liar, York,” Tex’s voice is light, & she almost sounds _happy_ to see him.

York turns to face her. Tex is in civvies, blonde hair tied back, & the only thing that really makes her stand out as more than just an average citizen or a soldier on shore leave is the battle rifle in her hands, the one currently trained on York. “York? I haven’t been called York in a really long time. Hello, _Allison._ ”

Tex doesn’t object to the name, although he’d seen her do so when others used it- but that was later on, after he dies. Maybe now she’s just letting it slide because she likes him. Or, more likely, because she wants his help. “I haven’t been called Allison in a really long time! You down to petty theft now York?” Tex lowers her battle rifle, & she rests it against her hip where it mag-locks to a piece of armor he hadn’t noticed she’d still been wearing. It was good to see he wasn’t the only one that’d wear bits & pieces of the armor now that he was out of the project.

“Seems like a waste of your talents.” Tex finishes, & she crosses her arms.

“Hey, whatever pays the rent,” He shrugs, “there’s not much call for a former infiltration specialist these days.”

“I think that’s about to change.” The smile she gives him is sharp, & repeating this feels wrong. “There’s a place I need to get into, & they don’t want me to get into it.”

“Y’know, they never do.”

After the meeting, everything passes in kind of a blur. There’s not much change besides subtle differences in words, & he finds himself bored as the days tick down & the minutes seem to drag on. Before, he’d been able to entertain the daydreams of payback & humoring Tex, but it’s different now. He’s supposed to _die_ there, Delta stays with him to keep him company, & Tex ends up running, Washington blows up his body after scavenging Delta.

Everything’s different, when you know how it plays out, & York finds himself up at night, haunted by it. He doesn’t understand why he’s been given the grueling act of reliving his final days, but he supposes it may have to do with some transgressions he’s had in his past. Maybe killing all those people _(“We're the good guys, right?”)_ was part of it, God being some humorless bastard that decided a somewhat comfortable afterlife wasn’t for York to enjoy.

There’s a lot to catch up with from Texas, or there’s a lot for her to catch up on, since they hadn’t talked much since after the break-in, where they both lost Carolina & Tex hadn’t been able to secure the Alpha (but, now he knows what happened, after hanging around the Reds & Blues, he’d learned the full story) & it’s hard to bite his tongue about Carolina’s fate when Tex brings it up one night over a couple of drinks.

The days diminish one by one, & then it’s there- _the_ day. York’s twitchy due to anxiety over it, & Tex assures him it’ll be fine, but she doesn’t know what he does, everything he spent agonizing over the night before, everything he went over after he’d pulled Delta for the night. York’s gaze lands on the battle rifle on Tex’s back, ignoring the encouraging words she gives him, her hand clapped on his shoulder. The battle rifle jams, he goes to cover her, Wyoming shoots him in his blindspot, Delta administers the armor’s pain medication & he dies without being able to finish his sentence.

The fight is just ingrained in his bones, he doesn’t have to think because he’s done this before, Tex’s orders just come & go, & soon it’s just them & Wyoming. Delta tries to adjust trajectories & statistics & plans to benefit the handicap York has because he can’t stop his hands from shaking, & his heartbeat is the loudest thing he can hear. There’s only seconds left.

His breath catches in his throat, but Tex’s BR doesn’t jam, & as he’d hoped, his does.

“Fuck, jammed! Cover me!” He yells to her, & ducks behind one of the walls while she continues the firefight with Wyoming.

York wasn’t sure if he could undermine fate like that, he had no idea if switching their guns would change the outcome & he’s practically hyperventilating at the fact that it _worked,_ & he fumbles as he unjams his BR, guided by Delta, & when it’s done, he rushes back out, & he manages to shoot Wyoming’s hand while the other man is distracted, the other Freelancer loudly cursing & dropping his own weapon.

York’s head in is the clouds once Tex has Wyoming, blocking out the world to just take a moment to _breathe._ He’s alive, he cheated death. York is alive & he has Delta & Tex is alive & Wyoming is- well, Wyoming is _knocked out_ & his helmet is in Tex’s hands, but they’re all there & no one died today. There was no catch, no consequence, York was _alive._

Time passes & Delta is quiet, running statistics silently, & Tex heads over to York, her helmet in her hands, & he can see the scowl painting her features. “Wyoming’s gone,” She says bitterly.

“You get Omega’s location?”

“Just some simtrooper outpost,” if possible, Tex’s expression seems to be one that is more upset than before.

“Simtroopers, eh? Omega making friends?” York asks, & Tex gives him a look, before she wordlessly slides her helmet back on.

“Let’s go.”

“Wait, Texas, I uh,” Tex looks at him expectantly, & York, if he’s honest, hadn’t thought this far ahead. He didn’t even think he’d get this far. “I’m not going with you.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Just okay? You’re good with that?”

Tex bumps her shoulder into his, looking down at him (had Project Freelancer just always decided that tall women were immediately qualified for the program?), & her voice is light, considering the fact she’d been so serious before. “Of course, what am I gonna do? Hold you at gunpoint & make you go to a simtrooper outpost with me? Nah, you deserve your retirement, old man.”

“Oh shut up, go on. Go kill Omega, & if you need help, you can always ring me,” York shoves her lightly, & she raises her hands in the air, backing up.

“Goodbye, York.”

“Goodbye, Texas.”

She leaves, & York stands staring after her for a few moments before he figures he needs to iron out his next plan of action. He doesn’t know if he’s the only one who remembered, but he knows the Reds & Blues had been fucking with time, & the closest one he knows of is Washington.

“Hey D,” Delta’s hologram flickers next to him, powering up.

“Yes York?” York lazily traces the outlines of his armor with one hand, plotting out just what he’s going to do with this life.

“You think you can activate my recovery beacon?” York takes the time to remove his helmet, to breathe in actual air, air he shouldn’t be able to breathe.

Delta seems uncertain, quiet for a moment. “Why would we do that, York?”

“Let’s just say. . . we have an old friend to catch up with.”


End file.
